Chapter 4: What Marcus Found
Marcus Webb was not a man who showed alarm easily.
He had sat across from Julian during hostile acquisition battles, during the collapse of a major contractor partnership, during the week Leo's mother had walked out and left nothing behind but a note and an empty wardrobe.
In all of it, Marcus had been the still point in the room.
He was not entirely still now.
Julian had spoken for four minutes without interruption, standing in a small staff anteroom on the third floor, his jacket still on, his tie still straight.
When he finished, Marcus set his leather portfolio on the table and looked at him.
"You heard all of this yourself."
"Yes."
"And Teresa heard it before you."
"Yes.
She came to find me specifically because of what she'd heard."
"What's her full name?"
"Teresa Vann.
She's been with us since Leo was six weeks old."
Marcus wrote it down.
"She'll need to give a statement.
Not today, but soon." He looked up.
"You said she mentioned a name.
Garrett Hale."
"Yes."
"I know that name." Marcus opened his portfolio.
"Julian — I need to tell you something, and I need you to hear it without reacting until I'm finished."
Julian sat down.
"Go ahead."
"Three weeks ago, I received a call from a colleague at Whitmore and Associates.
They do property and marital asset work, primarily high-net-worth cases.
He called as a professional courtesy — said he'd been approached by a prospective client who was asking questions about Sterling Developments' asset structure.
Specifically about the Lake Forest estate, the company's valuation methodology, and the enforceability of any prenuptial agreements that might be in place."
The room was very quiet.
"He didn't give me a name," Marcus continued.
"Attorney-client privilege prevented that.
But he was uncomfortable enough with the nature of the inquiry that he felt I should know someone was asking.
I flagged it internally and began a quiet review of our exposure.
I didn't tell you because I had nothing concrete.
I didn't want to alarm you three weeks before your wedding over what might have been a competitor doing routine market research."
Julian looked at the table.
Then back at Marcus.
"You think it was her."
"I think it's worth finding out whether Garrett Hale has any connection to Whitmore and Associates."
Julian's phone was already in his hand.
"Not yet," Marcus said.
"Let me make that call.
You need to stay visible.
If Victoria finishes her preparation and comes looking for you, you need to appear normal.
Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Good." Marcus stood.
"The prenuptial agreement — did she sign it?"
"Three weeks ago.
My copy is at the estate."
"I have the filed copy.
If she was already making inquiries about asset structure before she signed, that changes the legal character of her signature considerably.
It suggests she signed under a deliberate misrepresentation of intent."
"Meaning the prenup holds."
"Meaning the prenup holds, and her conduct prior to signing may constitute grounds for additional claims." Marcus closed the portfolio.
"Julian.
I need to ask you something directly, and I need a direct answer."
"Ask."
"Do you want to stop this wedding?"
Julian didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
"Then here's what we're going to do."
Marcus laid it out in clean, numbered steps, the way he always did.
Julian listened without interrupting.
By the time Marcus finished, Julian had a clear picture of the next seventy minutes — who would be told what, in what order, and how the guests would be managed with minimum disruption and maximum dignity.
It was, Julian thought, a strange thing to be grateful for.
But he was grateful.
"One more thing," Marcus said, moving toward the door.
"Patrick — the hotel manager — he placed the recording device?"
"He said five minutes.
That was twelve minutes ago."
"I'll collect it before I make my calls." Marcus paused with his hand on the door frame.
"She's still in the dressing room?"
"As far as I know."
"Then we have time." He looked at Julian steadily.
"You did the right thing, stopping in that hallway."
Julian thought about Leo asleep against Teresa's shoulder.
About Victoria's bright, effortless laugh.
About the word *complication.*
"Teresa did," he said.
"I just listened."
Marcus left.
Julian sat alone in the anteroom for thirty seconds.
Then he stood, straightened his jacket one more time, and walked out to find his mother before someone else did.
Eleanor Sterling was going to need a moment to absorb this.
He wanted to be the one to give it to her.
He was halfway down the main staircase when his phone buzzed with a text from a number he didn't recognize.
*You should ask her about the account in Vancouver.
She thinks you don't know it exists.
You're not the first man she's done this to.*
Julian stopped on the stairs.
May you like
Read it twice.
Then he kept walking.
